


Heart Too Hot To Hold

by Riadasti



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Child Neglect, Conflict, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Lots of kissing, Mild Language, Monday After Detention (Breakfast Club), Romantic Fluff, Week after detention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riadasti/pseuds/Riadasti
Summary: The Breakfast Club had spent only one day together—one incredibly eye-opening, frustrating, exhilarating day—but it was enough. At least, for most of them.
Relationships: Andrew Clark/Allison Reynolds, Brian Johnson/Original Female Character(s), John Bender/Claire Standish
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	1. Heart too hot to hold...

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to yet another "Monday after Breakfast Club," Riadasti edition. I'm bringing you up to date on the entire week after that fateful day of detention. I debated on whether or not to publish this since there are many, many similar fics of this kind out there (that are likely superior) but I decided, why not? Let me know what you think. More chapters to come, hopefully.

_Shermer High School, the week after._

MONDAY

Claire is seen walking down the hall with Allison. She gives her friends a withering look, and they promptly stop laughing behind their hands.

TUESDAY

Bender approaches Brian and puts him in a headlock. Brian’s friends step back, terrified, until Bender laughs and releases him with a playful shove. The returning laughter is a bit nervous.

WEDNESDAY

Andrew avoids eye contact with Allison in Biology. She hides her head in the hood of her massive winter coat.

THURSDAY

Bender sits on the bleachers with his pothead friends during gym class. Claire smiles at him. He smiles back.

FRIDAY

Brian walks up to Andrew in the front hallway with Allison in tow. Andrew turns his back on them, trying to brush them off. Bender, appearing out of nowhere, shoves Andrew into a locker. Before the two can come to blows, Richard Vernon pulls them apart. Vernon forgets Bender already has detention and sentences him to two more months anyway. Andrew storms off.

SATURDAY

_~Library~_

John Bender props his legs up on the table and stares at the ceiling. His eyes wander over to the bullshit abstract statue in the center of the library. No doubt Allison would have something to say about it—something artistic and deeply meaningful, to which he would roll his eyes. And Claire would say “you willfully choose to dislike things, just to be an ass.” She wouldn’t be wrong. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

He stares at the empty tables around him. He’d never admit it aloud, but he misses those dweebs. Not even Allison joined him today. Dick had taken up his usual vigil in the office across the hall. He’d given his stereotypical “no monkey business or your ass is mine for the rest of your natural life" speech, and Bender had fallen into his usual rhythm of openly scoffing him. He had to keep up appearances, after all.

The Breakfast Club had spent only one day together—one incredibly eye-opening, frustrating, exhilarating day—but it was enough. At least, for most of them.

Bender fills his lungs and lets out a lengthy, audible _fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck_ at the end of his breath. He is already itching with boredom, and it’s only hour one of his captivity.

“Hey.”

“ _Jesus—_ ” Bender whips around to see Claire standing behind him. He turns his face into a mask of indifference. “Princess. What brings you here?”

She ducks her head and hides a smile behind a wave of red hair. “Nothing much. I was bored, I guess.”

“You come back for your diamond? Afraid I hocked it at a pawn shop?”

Claire fixes him with a hard stare. He’d probably gone too far, but that’s his style. His stomach twists into a hard knot when she says nothing. She’s the only person who makes him want to acknowledge he actually has a conscience.

Without a word, she leans forward and moves his hair aside to examine his earlobe. This simple touch sends a shockwave down his spine, just like the time she’d kissed him on his neck. Her cheeks flush a little, and she lets her hand drop to her side with a satisfied smile.

She sits across from him and continues to study him with her dark brown eyes. He squirms under her gaze.

“Geez, do I have something hanging out of my nose?”

Claire shakes her head ‘no’ but says, “Yes.”

He lets out an unexpected chuckle. “Look at you getting coy.”

She shrugs her shoulder. “I’m trying some new things.”

“Such as…breaking into school on a Saturday?”

He’d never admit it aloud, but the thought of her doing this is both incredibly flattering and impossible to comprehend.

“I _may_ have paid Carl to let me in…” She crosses her arms over her torso.

“There it is!” His tone is biting, but he can’t help himself. “The rich do what they please.”

She frowns. “Don’t tease. It’s not as if I chose to be rich.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t tease. That’s your job.”

Claire is on her feet in an instant. “Why are you being such an ass? I came—”

She freezes mid-sentence at the sound of approaching steps.

“Bender!” Vernon calls out from the other side of the door. “You better be talking to your other personalities in there, bub.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” He shouts back with a mock salute at the closed door.

The teacher can be heard muttering something under his breath, but he stalks away without a fight.

Bender turns and finds his unexpected companion gone. He glances around but sees no sign of the redhead. Just as he’s about to call out for her, he feels something tugging at his pants leg. He scoots his chair back and looks down—meeting Claire’s wide-eyed stare under the table. The irony of her position is not lost on either of them.

“Find anything interesting under there?”

She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t look up your skirt, if that’s what you’re asking.” She points down at her other hand. “Care to help?”

One of her bracelets has caught itself in the bandana that’s loosely tied around his ankle. In another time and place, he would have cherished the closeness of her body heat between his legs, but right now he feels…embarrassed. That’s a new one.

_What the fuck is this girl doing to me?_

They manage to untangle her beaded bracelet. She crawls out from under the table, providing him with a tantalizing view of lace and underwire through the top of her shirt.

Claire takes a seat on the desk’s surface and fixes him with one of her usual deadpan stares. “I was thinking about tonight.”

“What about it?” he shoots back, trying to hide the flare of hope in the pit of his stomach.

“You said you’d be ideal getting back at my parents.” She glances away, tucking some of her hair behind one ear. “Wanna come over later?”

He puts his feet up on the desk beside her. “What’s in it for me?”

She huffs. “I’ll give you the other diamond earring if that’s what you’re after.”

He pretends to consider this. “Throw in a hot meal, and I’m all yours, Cherry.”

“Don’t call me that!” For emphasis, she lifts his legs into the air, sending his chair, and him with it, toppling backwards.

_~Andrew’s House~_

“Hello?” Andrew says into the receiver.

“Hey, man. It’s me, Brian.”

Andy’s stomach twists into a knot. “Hey,” he says. “Listen, about what happened…”

Before he can continue, Brian cuts him off. “I’m not calling about that. I just needed your help on something.”

“You need _my_ help?”

“Yeah, it’s a science project.”

“You’re the genius, what do you need my help for? Unless you’re making me some sort of guinea pig.”

Brian’s silence on the other end of the line tells him everything he needs to know.

“Dude, what are you going to do to me?”

“No, no, no,” Brian tries to assure him. “It’s just--no, it’s not that. It’s a physics, uh, a physics experiment is all. We need someone who’s stronger to, uh--to create torque.”

Andrew presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He supposes he deserves this after how much of an ass he’s been this week. 

“Fine, I’ll do it,” He says.

He takes down the directions to Brian’s house and leaves shortly after, telling his parents that he’s going over to Jason’s to “toss a ball around.”

“Don’t throw out your shoulder, son. You’ve got a meet next week.”

Andy slams the door behind him, instantly fuming. Sometimes he just wishes--

But that does him no good. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. But the least he can do is try to help out Brian. He follows the directions and parks outside of a modest two story home. The lawn is in shambles, and the house looks as if it could do with several updates.

 _Odd_ , he considers. _I thought Brian lived on the other side of town._

He steps out of his dad's pickup truck and walks up the steps. He knocks and waits. A TV is playing somewhere inside, loud enough for him to recognize the sounds of the afternoon weather break with Tom Skilling.

He's just about to knock again when the door opens. 

"Fuck," he says. 

Allison stares at him for a moment before turning on her heel and disappearing into the dim hallway. He stands there, paralyzed, until she reappears with an exasperated look on her face.

"You coming or going, Sporto?"

Andy opens the screen door and lets himself in. He shuts it behind him and takes quick stock of the shabby hallway. Wallpaper is peeling off in places, and there are scratches all over the hardwood floors, which need a fresh coat of polish. His eyes drift through a small opening into the living room. Only the light of the television lights the room. He can just make out the shape of a hunched figure on a futon in the corner.

A small hand presses against his arm, and he jumps at the touch. Allison is staring at him with a silent plea.

"Sorry," he says, impulsively. He wants to say more, but she shushes him and leads the way up a narrow staircase.

He has to feel his way along the hallway once they reach the top--there's no light to speak of. The same small hand grabs his sleeve and draws him into a nearby room. Allison flips the light switch, and he lets out a small gasp. 

Every inch of the walls is covered with drawings. It looks like she drew on whatever scrap of paper she could find. He sees envelopes for past due bills, grocery receipts, and even the corner of a tissue box. 

"This is you?" As if he has to ask. He caught a glimpse of her art last week at detention just before she slammed her notebook shut.

"Don't change the subject."

"But we weren't—”

"Shut up. I'm angry with you."

Andy sighs and drops down on the corner of her twin bed. Her room is incredibly small, so there's very little choice where he could settle anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. "I know. I fucked up."

She stares at him, giving away none of her thoughts, as usual.

He lets his gaze drop to the floor, only to find himself looking at a lifelike version of his face. 

Allison snatches this and holds it in front of his face. It’s a depiction of himself as a rooster, and beneath it are the words “chicken shit.”

_God damn, she's beautiful._


	2. A flame that burns my soul...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She opens her mouth to counter this statement, but he leans forward and silences her with a kiss.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

_~Allison’s house~_

Allison holds the picture in front of Andy’s face, wishing the drawing would burn itself into his memory.

Instead of lashing out, Andy gently takes the drawing from her outstretched hand. “This is really good, you know.”

She huffs and turns her back to him. She wants to be angry at him forever, but he’s making it difficult.

“I _am_ a chicken shit.” He says, and she turns to find him standing behind her. “I got scared and stopped thinking for myself.”

“Old habits,” she snaps back, lifting her pointed chin towards him in defiance.

“There’s nothing I can say to make this better, is there?”

She wonders what lie she can conjure to push him away further. What could she say to disgust him so completely that he’d never want to see her again?

But all she that comes out of her is the absolute truth this time.

“You ignored me.” She says. “You told us things would be different.”

Andy is silent.

“You’re still doing everything everyone tells you to do!” Allison leans back against her dresser and crosses her arms over her chest.

Andy bounces on the balls of his feet and nods his head. “You already told me I’m a chicken shit. I’m not arguing that with you.”

“I wish you would!” She shouts back. Part of her realizes how childish she’s being, but it feels better to be angry at him than to harbor any hope of other feelings shared between them.

He raises his hands in surrender and holds the drawing in front of his face. “I already said I'm not arguing with you. This is what I am.”

Allison bites her lip to hide a sudden smile. _Why does he have to be so damn cute?_

She wants to get one last dig in before she caves to his charm. “Brian lured you over here, didn’t he?”

Andy drops the drawing, and the apology is clearly written on his features. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or come over sooner.”

Allison shakes her head, annoyed that she has to suddenly fight back tears. “I didn’t want you to see this place.”

In two steps, he’s standing in front of her. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “Goddammit, I am so sorry.” He pulls her into a sudden embrace.

She squeaks in surprise and slowly relaxes into his hold. Allison swallows down the sob that threatens to escape. She’s struggling to remember when she was last hugged. If she can’t remember, it’s definitely been too long.

He steps back and twists a strand of her dark hair between two fingers.

His brow is furrowed, and he says, "You gotta stop hiding this face."

She opens her mouth to counter this statement, but he leans forward and silences her with a kiss. His hands tangle themselves in her hair as he explores her lips. She intuitively follows his lead, having far less experience in this realm than she tried to lie about last week. She finds her arms snaking themselves around his neck, drawing him even closer.

Allison draws back suddenly and meets his gaze. “I’m still mad at you,” she says, but it’s hardly convincing when she propels both of them backwards and onto her bed in a laughing heap.

SATURDAY EVENING

_~Claire’s House~_

Claire applies and then removes a second coat of lipstick. She’s having more trouble than usual deciding to go with or without it.

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , she chides herself. _It’s just Bender._

She glances at her wristwatch and realizes she needs to haul ass to meet him on time. She snatches up her dad’s keys and leaves the house without speaking to her parents. They’re too busy having a hushed argument in the den to notice her.

She pulls up to the corner and finds Bender leaning against a stop sign. Claire rolls down the window.

“You going my way?”

He looks up sharply, and an odd smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His hair is falling into his face, and he jumps into the seat beside her without a retort. She finds this unusual, as he’s never short on insults. She just stares at him, waiting. But he’s still got his head ducked slightly, and he’s not yet met her gaze.

She’s suddenly hit with a sick realization. Claire leans over and grabs either side of his face.

“Hey, get the fuck off me!” He snaps back, swatting her hands away—but it’s too late.

He’s got a black eye and a swollen left cheek with a nasty, bleeding scratch. It looks like he was punched and then backhanded across the face by someone wearing a ring.

Claire is suddenly fuming. She doesn’t say anything but floors the gas in the car and rushes them home. Bender is silent the entire drive—and this alone makes her incredibly nervous. She brings the car to an abrupt halt in the driveway and makes an executive decision.

He makes a biting comment on her lack of driving skills, but she shushes him and pushes his head down into his lap.

“Shut up and get down. I’m sneaking you in.”

“As flattered as I am, Princess—”

She silences him again, waits a few seconds for the front door to open, and when it doesn’t, she releases her hold on his shoulder.

“Coast is clear. Okay, there’s a back door that leads to the stairs by my hallway. I’m going to go inside and distract my parents while you come in and wait for me.”

“So they won’t have the pleasure of meeting me today, I’m guessing?”

Claire turns and meets his gaze, surprised at the note of disappointment in his voice. She shakes her head. “Not tonight. Next time.”

His expression is too complex to read, but he just nods his head. For the first time since she’s known him, he’s being compliant. All the more reason for them to delay their plan. John Bender is not himself tonight.

Claire walks up the front porch and enters the house.

Her mom exits the den with a harried expression. “I didn’t know you left, dear. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mom.” She says. “Just needed to pick up my lipstick from Beth.”

“How is that girl? We haven’t seen her in such a long time.”

Claire endures painful small talk, meanwhile wondering if Bender made it inside without anyone noticing. She excuses herself and disappears to the back of the house. The moment she rounds the corner to the stairs, she hears them arguing again. What is the subject today—money or a lack of affection?

She suddenly realizes Bender is not where he should be. Claire glances around the bottom of the stairs, whispering his name and waiting for a reply. She hears a soft _thump_ upstairs and quickly follows it. Bender is in the upstairs hall bathroom rummaging through the medicine cabinet.

“Help yourself,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Before he can offer a retort, she grabs all the necessary supplies and drags him by his sleeve down the hall. Claire leans against the back of the closed door and takes stock of the situation she’s just put herself in.

John Bender is standing in her bedroom. And he’s looking back at her with a strange mixture of curiosity and amusement. His smiles are so rare, and there’s the hint of one at the corner of his lips.

She realizes she’s been silently staring at him for far longer than she should.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says, walking past him to quickly toss her covers and sheets into a more orderly fashion.

She begins setting out fresh bandages and alcohol swabs. When he doesn’t move, Claire stands up and pulls him towards the bed. He steps back, and he’s suddenly wearing a mask of anger.

“You don’t have to do this. I clean myself up all the time.”

She tilts her head and heaves a sigh. “The fact that you say that makes me even more upset. Let me take care of you for _once_. Please, John.”

He locks eyes with her. Maybe it was the use of his proper name, or maybe she underestimated her powers of persuasion, but he finally takes a seat on the bed. She sits beside him, moving closer so she can examine the deep cut on his cheek. She gently cleans it with hydrogen peroxide. He doesn’t flinch but just continues studying her. Claire has to pretend it doesn’t put her off balance and remind herself to breathe.

“Why does it upset you so much?” he asks.

She pulls back and shrugs one shoulder. “We already established everyone’s home life is shitty. But no one should leave the house with cuts and bruises.”

“But why do _you_ care?”

“People are allowed to care about you, you know.” She heaves a sigh and continues cleaning the cut.

“I don’t want your pity.” His voice is low, but she knows his words are meant to hurt her.

“Caring is not the same as pitying.” She finds herself growing angry at his callousness. “And why do you always have to push people away?”

“Cause I’m a fucking nobody, that’s why.” His own words seem to take him by surprise. He blinks and turns away.

Before she can stop herself, she grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him towards her. He looks as if he wants to shove her away, but she keeps tugging until his face is level with hers. Heart thudding in her throat, she presses forward and kisses him on his uninjured cheek.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

His mouth turns upwards in a full smile. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that, Cherry?”

“I _told_ you not to call me that.” And for emphasis, she leans forward and kisses him again, this time on the lips.

He’s visibly stunned for a few seconds before he captures her in his arms to return the favor. His hands fall to her hips, and he presses against her. Her hands bunch themselves in the front of his shirt. She’s too far gone to realize he’s pulling them both down to the bed, and then he’s on top of her. Claire’s hands move to explore more of him, but he draws back with a hiss when her nails collide with his swollen cheek.

Bender rolls off and lies flat on the mattress beside her.

“Sorry,” she says, examining the cut to see if she’d accidentally reopened it.

“For what?” He asks, his voice a bit huskier than normal. 

A memory from last week pops into her mind. She smiles and says, “I guess…being bad just felt too good.”

He lets his head fall back on the covers and laughs. “I’m bad for you. You know that, right?”

“Let me be the judge of that.” In a fit of bravery, she curls her body beside him and trails a finger down the swelling bruise under his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts so far? I am going to try and give Brian some much needed attention if I can. He got the short end of the stick in terms of romance (i.e. none).


	3. Are you ready for a romance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You gonna breathe on me all night, string bean?” The girl says, not taking her eyes from the screen.

SATURDAY EVENING

~ _Rubus Room Arcade_ ~

Brian and his friends navigate the packed room, waiting in line to play Missile Command.

Josh shoves Brian and points to the front of the line. He shouts over the music, “That girl is back! The one Matt told us about!”

“She’s really good,” Lee joins in. “They say she’s almost able to get the 810,000 points to unlock that crazy bug in the system!”

Brian peers over the heads in front of them, being the tallest of his trio of friends. Several people jump out of line, and the group moves forward. He can just make out the back of someone’s head and the score at the top of the screen: 780900. He’s immediately intrigued.

The couple in front of them decide to ditch the line and run over to the new Pacman machine, and Brian and his friends are now next in line. Except at the sight of the girl currently playing, none of them are too eager to take the helm. She’s navigating all the controls with apparent ease.

Brian takes a few mincing steps to the side to get a better look at her. Her hair is a cherry red that could only come from a box—it certainly rivals Claire’s natural carrot-top. She’s wearing black tights and a knee-length plaid skirt. Her plain white tee is tucked into the waist of the skirt, and everything about her attire screams “punk.” He can’t make out much of her face from the flashing lights of the screen, but she’s good-looking from what he can see of her profile. His lips quirk into a smile when he sees she’s wearing thick-rimmed glasses and sucking on a lollypop. The sucker is a nice touch.

“You gonna breathe on me all night, string bean?” The girl says, not taking her eyes from the screen.

“Oh, uh—sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Don’t stop breathing. You’ll die.” She says, moving her sucker to the other cheek.

“No—I mean, yeah, you’re right,” Brian laughs awkwardly. He turns and sees his two friends gesticulating dramatically behind her back.

 _OH MY GOD_ , Josh mouths silently.

“Talk to her, she’s cute!” Lee whispers.

His two friends leave suddenly, giving him a thumbs-up and pointing unnecessarily at the cute girl.

Brian waves them away and turns back to the screen, only to find her score has jumped up to 798,000.

“Have you ever unlocked the crazy high score before?”

“Just barely—FUCK!” she screams as she loses a missile battery to enemy fire.

“You gotta anticipate their fire—”

“I know how to play, dipshit. My eyes aren’t that great, so just point out the stuff on the right side. That always sneaks up on me.”

“Uh—yeah, okay. Yeah, I can do that.” Brian bites his lip to keep from talking. He cannot screw this up. His past attempts at talking to girls have always crashed and burned, but here in the arcade, he’s in his element.

“So, what’s your— _hng_!” He almost chokes when she takes out her sucker and puts it in his mouth mid-sentence. It’s a chocolate Tootsie Pop.

“Hold that for me,” she says, locking eyes with the screen again. “And watch the screen, not my face! I’m almost there.”

_Holy shit, this girl is amazing._

Brian uses all his mental energy to do exactly as he’s told—except he has to take out the sucker to talk clearly. Braces and hard candy don’t really mix. He takes his role seriously, and the two of them navigate level 254 with only a few casualties. It isn’t long before they hit the 800,000 mark—after that, they have to do the math in their heads, since the display won’t show numbers any higher. They barely scrape by on the 0x stages, and when it kicks back to level 1, it’s clear they beat it. Cities litter the screen, and they realize they’ve unlocked the bug.

“Oh my God, yes!” She cries out, turning and kissing Brian on the lips. “Thank you! Yes! Now go get your friends so they can play the next few hours with these insane high scores.”

Brian stands there for a second just blinking—and then her words slowly sink in. Moving as if on autopilot, he walks over and tells Josh and Lee, who immediately drop their half eaten slices of pizza and rush over to verify the news for themselves. By the time Brian makes his way back, the girl is walking towards him, and his friends are already engrossed in the game.

In the normal light, he realizes he knows her. She gives him a smile and walks past him, but he follows, leaning down so he doesn’t have to shout as much.

“So, uh—thanks.” Brian hands her sucker back and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you want to—I mean, would you like to get some pizza? I’m buying.”

She shrugs one shoulder. “I won’t turn down free pizza.”

They make their way to the café area, and it’s a little bit quieter, so at least they don’t have to shout at each other. They stand in line, and Brian fumbles with his wallet, quickly checking to make sure he’ll actually have enough to cover the meal. He can feel his stress sweats already starting.

He glances at the girl and clears his throat. He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her sooner.

“So, uh, you’re Charlotte, right? I know you from Physics 102 with Mr. Green.”

She turns and smiles at him. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember my name, Brian.”

He’s taken aback. “You know _my_ name?”

She laughs, “It’s impossible to ignore you when you’re the one who tries to answer all the questions in class. And I go by Lottie, actually. Charlotte is so old-fashioned.”

“Well, I like it.” Brian blurts out, and his face suffuses with blushes.

They reach the counter and he gets them two slices and two Cokes, only to realize he doesn't have enough for two sodas. Lottie jumps in and suggests they just share the drink. He fumbles with the change and hands the cashier a 1-dollar bill instead of a 5. Once that horrible exchange is finally over, they make their way to a table. With her back turned he closes his eyes and runs a hand down his face. What could be more humiliating? Should he just throw the drink all over her white shirt and be done with it already?

Luckily, Lottie is too cool to bring it up in conversation. Instead, she dives right into discussing the cosmic inflation theory. They fall easily into discussing the major theorists, and in the midst of this, Brian pinches his arm to make sure he’s actually here and not just dreaming. He continually has to bring his mind back to their conversation (it’s developing a pesky habit of repeatedly recalling that kiss she gave him) and they manage to have a natural, comfortable discussion. All while sharing the same drink. She didn’t even insist on separate straws.

The moment is brief, however, as Josh and Lee return to the table. They both fawn over Lottie, thanking her for letting them play out the rest of her game—before they lost, of course—and pressing her to tell them all her secrets. Brian is tempted to tell them to buzz off so he can get some alone time, but it turns out he doesn’t have to. All three of their watch alarms go off simultaneously. They’d synchronized them to go off as a reminder for their combined curfew of 10pm.

“I’ve gotta go,” Lee says. “Mom will kill me if I’m late tonight. We’re visiting my grandma tomorrow.”

Josh says nothing, but Lee kicks him under the table.

“What? Oh, uh—yeah, I’ve got homework or something,” he supplies lamely.

The two of them leave and Brian gives them a huge smile and a wave. He makes a promise to himself to save up and buy the both of them a few extra rounds on their favorite games next weekend.

He turns back to Lottie, and she’s got a sad half-smile on her face. “I’ve gotta go, too, actually.”

Brian deflates immediately. “Right,” he says.

She takes one last gulp of their soda and says slowly, “Do you want to walk me home? I live just a few blocks away.”

“Yeah! Sure! I’d like that!” Brian grins and swallows. He needs to dial back the eagerness a bit. But it’s honestly so difficult—this is the first time he feels like he’s really hitting it off with a girl.

Even if she decides she just wants to be friends, he’s ecstatic.

They toss their garbage and navigate the thinning crowd to reach the exit. Once outside, they fall into a relaxed pace and a mostly comfortable silence. Brian is still squirming inside trying to reconcile his mind to the fact that he’s actually walking a girl home on a Saturday night.

“I’m, uh—really glad my friends and I came out tonight.” He says, hazarding a glance at her. The streetlights bounce off her lenses, so he can’t read her expression.

“Me too,” she says.

 _Well that’s got to be a good sign_ , he thinks to himself.

“Do you come out every weekend?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “When I can. I usually have to save up my allowance.”

“Me too,” he says with a laugh. He swallows again and tries something else. “So would you like to do this again some time, maybe…just the two of us?”

Lottie turns and fixes him with a smile. “Yeah.”

“Really?”

She laughs. “Yes, Brian.”

“Cool. Okay, yeah. Awesome.” He wipes his hands on his pants legs and takes a deep breath. He just asked out a girl. And she said yes.

“Well, this is me.” She stops in front of a Kwik-ee-mart.

Brian glances around. “You live—?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t live _in_ the shop. My dad owns it. We live up there.” She points to a set of windows adorning the top floor.

“Right, cool.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re so goofy.” Lottie laughs.

“Is that a good thing?”

She nods at him, and it looks like she’s trying to decide something. After a pause, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him on the lips. She lets out a shout of laughter, says a quick goodbye, and disappears through a side door. Brian stares after her, wondering if maybe she’d been just as nervous as him this entire time.

He jogs home, giving himself a few celebratory punches in the arm all the way.

MONDAY

~ _Shermer High School cafeteria_ ~

Brian, Josh, Lee, and Lottie sit at a corner table talking animatedly about something. Andy and Allison walk in holding hands and make a beeline for their table.

“Hey guys!” Brian’s face lights up at the sight of the pair.

“Look, dude, about the other day—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Brian shakes his head, interrupting Andy before he can apologize.

Allison nods her head towards Lottie and raises an eyebrow. Brian nods his head, and she opens her mouth in silent awe.

Andy watches this exchange. “What’s going on?”

Allison shakes his shoulder. “Later,” she whispers in his ear.

Claire strolls by with her friends, and though she smiles at the group, they’re too busy to notice. She sits at a nearby table, but her eyes keep wandering over to the others. Sarah and Amanda try to catch her attention. She ignores this, stands up, and sits beside Brian.

“Claire, hi.” Brian says, clearly as shocked as others in the cafeteria that the Princess decided to sit with the nerds.

Bender walks by and puts Andy in a playful headlock and plops down beside him in a neighboring chair.

“Dude, are you wearing makeup?” Andy asks in a hushed voice, staring at a spot under Bender’s eye.

“Yeah, what’s it to ya? All I need is a lobotomy and some tights and I’ll be just like you.”

This should have gotten a rise out of Andy, but he just laughs it off. Bender leans over the table and props his head in his hands, staring intently at Claire as she unpacks her lunchbox.

“What, no seaweed today?”

She rolls her eyes. “Leftover chicken lo mein from Chang’s.”

“I will never understand your obsession with Chinese food.”

In response, she throws a chunk of flavored chicken at him. He picks it up off the table, pops it into his mouth, and wiggles his eyebrows at her.

The gossipmongers are having a field day at the strange collection of individuals at that table. But none of them really care anymore.

_You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basketcase, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question?_

_Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all folks! Brian got his moment in the spotlight and a little taste of new love. Tell me what you think in the comments!
> 
> ** I do not own The Breakfast Club nor do I own the song "Heart Too Hot to Hold" by Jesse Johnson & Stephanie Spruill


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